


Holiday Desires

by pet



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 07:43:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13406613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pet/pseuds/pet
Summary: The company Christmas party was supposed to be the jewel of the year, but when her ex-husband decides he would rather go away with his witch of the week than spend Christmas with his kids, Hermione is left home with their children. Learning that she isn't to be attending, her boss utilizes a mutual friend to get her to the ball. He has a plan for her and he's willing to do what he must in order to see she gets something she wants for Christmas, rather than just what she needs.





	Holiday Desires

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this some time ago. I don't remember why and I don't remember when, but I've given it a look over, polished it up a bit, and now it's out there for all and sundry. I'm sure there was a beta at some point, but rest assured any mistakes are mine and mine alone.
> 
> I'm not JK Rowling.
> 
> I ship Lumione... Hardcore...
> 
> Also, in case any of you are planning on getting me something for Christmas this year, you have a little over 11 months to find Jason Isaacs for me. Please and Thank You! lol

‘Bloody hell,’ she said under her breath. When she looked up at her fellow researcher she said a bit louder, ‘You scared the daylights out of me!’

The older woman, a witch named Tess who was roughly 55 years of age with poker-straight black hair, looked back upon Hermione Granger with a bewildered look upon her face. ‘The what?’ 

‘Erm, sorry, Tess. It’s a Muggle colloquialism. It basically means you really scared me. I wasn’t expecting anyone to come up behind me.’ 

‘Honestly, Hermione,’ the other witch said. ‘I’d been saying your name since I entered the room. I can’t be held accountable if you are so involved in your work that you are oblivious to all else.’ 

The two women shared a smile and a small laugh. It was well known to all those who worked with them that it was easy for both to become so deeply entranced by whatever it was they were doing that they would recognize little else. Many said that the whole of London could fall around them and neither would notice. It was the very thing that brought the two polar opposites together nearly a decade earlier. Both women shared an attention to detail that no one could deny and it was for that singular reason the two were the most highly respected legal researchers in Great Britain. Nothing got past them. 

‘Well, I am truly sorry for interrupting you, but this owl just arrived and by the looks of it, it’s probably from your ex.’ 

Hermione sighed deeply and rolled her eyes before taking the missive. She sat back in her seat and opened the letter, not at all surprised with the contents, but disappointed nonetheless. Rolling the parchment into a ball, she tossed it overhand toward the wastepaper bin in the corner, missing terribly. 

‘Do I even want to know?’ 

‘It was from Ron,’ Hermione confirmed. ‘Apparently his girlfriend is more important than his children.  Honestly. Two days before Christmas and he is dropping this one in my lap. When the hell will he grow up and take responsibility?’ When Tess simply arched an eyebrow in confusion, Hermione went on. ‘Since Christmas is on a Saturday this year, he is taking the weekend and his lover and heading off to Italy for some romantic getaway. His letter was a “reminder” to me, saying that he mentioned it a few months ago, but as I’m sure you know, he said no such thing. In fact, I’m not even certain he was with this woman a few months ago!’ 

‘Tell me again why you married him?’ 

Hermione didn’t need to answer; it was a rhetorical question. The truth of her marriage was well known by the older witch, as well as most of the other people in the office in which they worked. She and Ron had done as many others were doing in the immediate aftermath of the Second War. Without much thought about the distant future, they ran off and got married, acutely feeling how precious life was and how quickly it could all end. When the dust settled and the newness of it all wore off, old problems, and new, began to crop up again. Hermione wanted to finish N.E.W.T.’s and get a proper education. She wanted to earn her place in the Wizarding World. Ron didn’t see the point in it, using his position as Hero and best friend of Harry Potter to secure a place within the ranks of Auror’s. Ron wanted Hermione at home, tending to the house and raising many children while Hermione wanted to wait until they were financially stable before adding anyone else to their young family. Though Ron tried and tried, this was an argument that Hermione won; she didn’t conceive until a few months after she stopped taking her Muggle birth control pills. He thought that her devotion to him should be more than her need to work while she was convinced he wanted nothing more than another mother to see to all his needs. She hated that he always reverted back to the same complaints about her never being around. She despised that he would try to guilt her into staying home with their children, Rose and Hugo, rather than sending them off to the same preparatory school for pre-Hogwarts aged children that Harry and his wife Ginny sent their own children. The thing that bothered her most, though, was his constant badgering of her employer. 

It had started small. When Hermione had graduated at the top of her class, she had received offers from all over to come and research for them. She quickly dismissed most of the offers, knowing that the work would be tedious and redundant. There was a large part of her that craved excitement and while most research topics wouldn’t always be as thrilling as it had been in her youth, there was nothing forcing her to take a job doing menial assignments. That was when she came upon a letter from Malfoy Industries. She didn’t even need to open it to know that this would almost certainly be the job she would accept providing the terms were correct. There would never be a dull moment where the Malfoy’s were concerned. She made up her mind to take the very generous offer and penned an owl in response. When she told Ron, though, he all but hexed her. 

That fight was the first of many between them because of her job. ‘He’s just using your name to get back in the good graces of the world.’ Ron had said that on more than one occasion. She’d also heard, ‘You can’t trust him’, ‘You’re never going to be respected there’, and her personal favourite, ‘You’d have better luck advancing with another company because Malfoy would never promote a Muggle-born.’ Never in all the years that she had been working for Lucius Malfoy did she hear any mention of blood status at the office.  Ron, though, would bring it up every chance he could. If she was given a bonus, it was because Mr. Malfoy was trying to show favouritism toward the Muggle-born. When Mr. Malfoy would publicly praise her efforts on a particularly difficult case, Ron would play it off as him attempting to suck up to the Muggle-born war heroine. Each time she was promoted, it wasn’t due to her hard work and determination, but rather a by-product of Lucius Malfoy’s posturing. 

She had gotten sick and tired of listening to her husband’s bigotry and finally began to vehemently defend her employer. Of course this led to even more arguing and the declaration that in order to be so passionate in her defence, she was obviously sleeping with her boss. No matter how loudly she denied it, Ron wasn’t to be dissuaded. In the end, though, it didn’t matter. When she had been presented with the divorce papers along with a requisite statement on the possible use of Veritaserum in the proceedings, she was surprised. The idea of the truth serum didn’t bother her in the slightest, knowing that she had nothing to hide, and signed all the forms presented to her. As a member of the legal community, she knew what would happen during these dealings, yet she was slightly shocked to see that her soon to be ex was going to fight for full custody of their two children, which he did not win. At the end of it all, the truth had come out. All of it. Hermione had not cheated, just as she said, but Ron had, and many times at that. That was a crushing blow that she had not been expecting. 

Ron and Hermione had divorced three years previous and a lot had changed during that time. Mr. Malfoy was very sympathetic to her emotional state, having gone through a divorce himself shortly after the war. He gave her paid time off from her duties to settle everything with the split, move into a new home, and adjust to the life of a single mother. When she returned to work a scant fortnight later, he began taking lunch with her once a month to ensure that everything was going alright in her life and that she didn’t need to cut back on her work hours. At first, he had said that it was merely because he didn’t want to lose his best researcher, but after a year or so, she began to suspect otherwise. 

It was strange for her, getting to know Lucius Malfoy. When Ron had first accused her of sleeping with the older man, she had all but laughed in Ron’s face. The idea of it was preposterous! However, once the thought was in her head, it began to unconsciously take root. 

She never really thought about it; he was her boss, for crying out loud! Their monthly lunch meetings became bi-monthly after a while, and a little while later, they progressed to weekly. The two discovered rather quickly that despite completely different upbringings, they had a lot in common. Conversation flowed easily between them and recently, more often than not, their hour lunch meetings would run long. The first time this had happened, Hermione had panicked, throwing her things back into her bag and rising quickly from her seat. It was only the wholly unfamiliar sound of Mr. Malfoy’s laughter that stopped her dead in her tracks. With an eyebrow raised, he informed her that he was almost certain her boss would understand if she were another few minutes late so long as she finished the bit of coffee cake left on her plate. She chuckled at his joke, rolled her eyes and acquiesced. After that, she never even looked at a clock while eating with him. 

If she were being honest with herself, she would know that it wasn’t Ron who had first made her look at Lucius Malfoy in a different light. There was no denying his beauty or his power. The way he carried himself with such confidence and haughty arrogance had once annoyed her but now only served to make her swoon a bit. She had always known that he was an attractive man, but she never looked past his seemingly superior façade. When she had come to truly know him, she discovered that while he did think himself better than most people, it was well founded. He really _was_ better than most of the people she knew. His intelligence was greater than hers, his eye for business was unsurpassed, and he was a philanthropist unlike anything she could have ever imagined. Even his sense of humour was beyond the pale. However, over the years after the divorce, she discovered that Ron’s protestations really didn’t seem too far off the mark. It was just a few years too early. Then again, had she still been married to Ron, she never would have looked twice at Mr. Malfoy due to her unfailing loyalty toward her husband. Now she wasn’t so sure. 

There were days when the two would exchange glances that left her a bit warm under the collar. Other times, their fingers would brush while passing off paperwork and she would have to flee lest he see the blush creeping up her cheeks. She often had to convince herself that she was only imagining him flirting with her over their almost daily lunches of late and part of her was seriously dreading the upcoming company Christmas Party. Not only was she not sure of the location, Mr. Malfoy preferring to keep it a secret to ensure privacy, but she knew that he would be there, most certainly resplendent in robes of the fines fabrics. An image of her in his arms, being led in a slow waltz and feeling his hands on her body invaded her mind and she smiled. 

She was interrupted from her daydreams by a snicker from Tess. 

‘What?’ Hermione asked. 

‘From the look on your face, your thoughts weren’t exactly appropriate for the workplace. One would presume you were reminiscing about your ex, given our conversation, but I’m willing to wager that isn’t the case. Perhaps you were thinking about -’ 

‘Miss Granger?’ he drawled, employing the use of her maiden name as he always had. 

‘Speak of the devil,’ Tess whispered to Hermione. 

Hermione mentally shook herself before turning to face her boss and the man who was finding his way into her thoughts a lot lately. ‘Mr. Malfoy. What can I do for you this afternoon?’ 

‘I was hoping you could get me the final forms for the Anti-Jinx patent we were working on for Nimbus. Do you have that finished?’ 

‘Certainly, sir,’ she replied, reaching over to the top of a pile on the far right side of her desk. ‘Here you are.’ 

Lucius thanked her and reached his hand toward her to take the small sack of parchment. As he took it, their hands brushed and their eyes met. For but a moment longer than necessary, the two remained frozen, neither moving their hands, neither looking away. After another second, Hermione dropped her hand to her side and looked away, a blush already visible on her face. Lucius’s features softened into a slight smile as he turned to take his leave. When he got to the door, he paused long enough to ensure both women would be attending the party. Tess immediately answered in the affirmative and Hermione was just behind her until she remembered the missive from Ron. 

‘I’m sorry, sir. I don’t think I’m going to be able to make it now. My wonderful ex-husband,’ she said, her voice now dripping with sarcasm, ‘has decided to shirk his parental obligations in favour of a holiday with his current fling. I’m afraid that it is too short notice to get a sitter.’ 

‘Well,’ he replied, the ghost of a smile falling from his lips. ‘That does present a problem. See what you can do, Miss Granger. I was so looking forward to having us all together, but I suppose I’ll just have to suffer the holiday without you.’ 

With that, he frowned and left the room. Tess immediately rounded on Hermione. 

‘You cannot possibly be considering missing this party, love. You’ve the perfect dress, gorgeous shoes and judging by the way you and Mr. Malfoy were just looking at each other, this was going to be the best night of your life!’ 

‘What?!’ Hermione cried. ‘What are you talking about? There is no “Mr. Malfoy and I” and there will never be!’ 

‘Oh why not?’ 

‘Because he’s my employer! It’s unethical! Intra-office romances are just... just... _wrong_! I couldn’t and I wouldn’t,’ she said, continuing on in a much softer voice, ‘no matter how much I want to.’ 

‘Never you mind about that. Let’s discuss how to get Cinderella to her Ball.’ 

They had exhausted every option known to either of them and still not come up with a suitable sitter for Hermione’s children. With all of the Weasley’s save Ron travelling to Romania to visit Charlie, most of Hermione’s possible list was dwindled. Harry was also out, as he was travelling with Ginny. Hermione’s own parents were still living in Australia, deciding to stay put once their memories were restored, but she knew that they would come if asked. The Portkey travel, however, took its toll and with such short notice, they would be virtually useless during the time frame she would have needed them. Any friends that Hermione had, had already made plans for the evening, dinners with their own families and the like. There was no one left to consider, and Hermione went home that evening feeling melancholy. 

Christmas Eve dawned over an even more saddened woman, but Hermione decided to look on the bright side of things. Even though she would not be attending the party the next evening, she would be able to have more time with her children. All too soon they would be off to Hogwarts and she would rarely see them. She vowed to cherish these moments while she could, and she would start immediately. 

Even though it was a Friday, Hermione had the day off from work. Mr. Malfoy had closed his company for Christmas Eve in order to give those with families more time together. Hermione couldn’t help but think that it was just another sign the man had truly changed from the way he was when she first met him all those years ago in Flourish and Blotts. She made a big breakfast for her babies, who weren’t babies anymore, and then spent the day baking cookies to set out for Santa Claus. Once her children were nestled all snug in their beds, she curled up on the sofa with some ice cream, the cookies, and a hot chocolate, Julie Andrews and Christopher Plummer keeping her company while telling the story of two very unlikely people finding love in unusual circumstances. Hermione went to bed and cast the necessary spells to send the Christmas parcels to their places either under the tree or into the stockings for discovery in the morning. 

Christmas morning was a flurry of squealing children and flying wrapping paper. After a whirlwind hour of gift-giving and receiving, Hermione’s living room was covered in rubbish but Rose and Hugo were happy.  They ran back to their rooms with their new treasures and played clear through until late afternoon, pausing only long enough to eat lunch with their mum. Just after four in the afternoon, an owl tapped on the window on her kitchen.  She read the missive, shaking her head in disbelief for a few minutes before she heard her Floo come to life and Tess ask for permission to step through. 

‘Hullo Hermione,’ the older witch said. ‘I see you got Mr. Malfoy’s owl.’ 

‘What is the meaning of this?’ Hermione asked, holding the parchment up in front of her. 

Tess smirked. ‘It would seem that you weren’t the only one with childcare issues for this evening, so the Malfoy’s made arrangements. Come now. Get dressed! We’ve only an hour to make you mouth-watering!’ 

Hermione huffed at the comment. She wasn’t out to be “mouth-watering” as Tess had said; she just wanted to look pretty for an evening. Malfoy Industries Christmas parties were well known for being the perfect opportunity to show off your finery for the rest of the Wizarding elite and Hermione had spared no expense this year. Her dress was a sleeveless, tea length dress with a fitted bodice and full skirt. The inch or so of dark green tulle that showed underneath the skirt was just enough colour to set off the black matte satin of the rest of the gown. Tess used her wand to calm Hermione’s still unruly hair and apply a bare minimum amount of makeup. After making sure both women looked presentable enough for the party they were going to, Hermione called her children to them, donned her Christian Louboutin black platform pumps, and waited for the Portkey to activate. 

The quartet arrived in a fairly common looking receiving room, save for the pictures of footballers adorning the walls. Manchester United football players, to be specific. Hermione sighed. Leave it to Lucius Malfoy to support this particular club. She didn’t care much for them but she decided to keep those thoughts to herself.  It wouldn’t do for her to get into an argument with her boss over football, especially on Christmas. No sooner had she had that thought did a small house elf appear in the middle of the room. The creature, whose name Hermione didn’t quite catch, quickly assured her of the well-being of the children and whisked them away almost as quickly as the little thing arrived. Just as suddenly, Tess was screeching about being late and practically dragged Hermione from the receiving room, down a hall and into a rather large banquet hall. 

The room was, in a word, stunning. There were large, round tables, covered in white linens and fine china place settings, adorning most of the room and surrounding a moderately sized dance floor. Against the far wall and in front of a line of perfectly proportioned white Christmas trees, a small orchestra was setting up their equipment. The room itself was cast in a pale blue hue and Hermione could have sworn she caught sight of a few snowflakes falling. As she and Tess made their way to their own seats, Hermione noticed that there were fairy lights littering the ceiling and that the tables also held hints of silver in their napkin holders, decoration on the plates, rims of the wine glasses and, of course, the silverware itself. It was, as she initially thought, completely stunning. 

As fate would have it, though she was almost certain that _fate_ had nothing to do with it, she and Tess were seated with most of the upper management for their company, including Lucius Malfoy himself. In fact, he was seated right beside her, just to her left. She really didn’t mind. Over the past few years, and especially over the last handful of months, the two had become quite close. Hermione even considered him a good friend, but no matter what, she knew that it would never be more than that. Even if she had come to appreciate his humour, enjoy his company, and even look forward to seeing him every day, she would never allow it to go past friendly flirtation. Not so long as he was her employer, anyway. 

Dinner was a nice affair. The food was sumptuous, her veal so tender she could have cut it with her fork. Aside from the meat, though, she couldn’t remember what else she had eaten, only that it was good. She was so engaged in conversation with Mr. Malfoy that she paid little attention to anything else. Before she even realized it, the orchestra was switching from their dining music to a melody more suitable for dancing. Various couples in the room left their tables in favour of the dance floor and Hermione once again found herself alone with Tess. The older witch was staring at her with a somewhat smug and knowing smile, but Hermione didn’t think twice on it. 

‘He supports Liverpool,’ Hermione said in a somewhat astonished tone. 

‘Who?’ enquired Tess. 

‘Mr. Malfoy. I thought Manchester United, given the location, but he merely chose this place for its accommodations. Well, that and he does business with the owners. But he supports Liverpool! Turns out he has seats at Anfield.’ 

Tess looked confused. ‘What are you on about, girl?’ 

‘Football,’ she replied offhandedly before remembering that her co-worker and friend was a pureblooded witch and was quite possibly unfamiliar with the sport. ‘It’s a Muggle game, and this building, Old Trafford, is where the Manchester United Football Club plays.’ 

‘Oh,’ was the only reply she got to her rambling. 

The two were silent for a few long minutes, both sipping their wine and watching the couples on the dance floor. When conversation started back up again, there was very little discussion of work. Rather than talk to death things they dealt with all the time, they decided they would avoid the topic at all costs. That did not stop Tess from dropping comments about Mr. Malfoy’s apparent interest in Hermione whenever she thought she could get away with it. Hermione, for her part, did her best to ignore said comments. Tess occasionally got up to dance, as did Hermione, but whenever a slower piece would begin, both witches would return to their seats and drinks. 

After an hour or so of festivities, Mr. Malfoy found his way back to his seat, plopping down in his chair in a most un-Malfoy-like fashion. Hermione chuckled at him and he merely raised an eyebrow to her. With a snap of his fingers, an elf appeared beside them and refilled both of their beverages. When the elf left, Hermione raised her glass to her mouth only to be stopped by an inquisitive voice. 

‘Water, Miss Granger?’ 

‘Yes, Mr. Malfoy. I’ve reached my limit on alcohol consumption with the glass of wine I had with dinner, and I don’t like to drink caffeinated beverages this late in the day. If I did, you can be assured that I would be awake all night. Besides that, too much alcohol tends to make people look silly and behave in ways that they usually wouldn’t when in public.’ 

‘Is that so?’ he countered. 

‘Absolutely!’ she replied, taking another sip. ‘I mean, look at Baker from Accounting over there. I’ve seen him go to the bar at least five times in the last hour and every time, his walk becomes less and less graceful. And Andersen from the Human Resources department has been practically -’ 

Hermione cut herself off, not really wishing to engage in a discussion of a sexual nature with a man who she could easily see herself with under different circumstances. Unfortunately for her, Lucius’s eyes immediately sought out the man she had begun to speak about and knew exactly where she was going with her comment. Mark Andersen was an elderly wizard, usually so calm and controlled, but at that exact moment he was engaged in some rather indecent acts with some woman more than 50 years younger than he was. The downside to that discovery was that now Hermione’s eyes were unconsciously seeking out all the illicit activities happening on the dance floor. 

‘Honestly,’ she said, trying to force herself into a calm, ‘you would think people would have better judgment. These public displays of affection are one thing, but to engage in them with someone you work with? How uncouth could you get?’ 

Lucius stiffened next to her and quickly changed the subject. ‘I got you something for Christmas.’ 

‘You what?’ she responded, shock evident in her voice. 

‘Well, I was informed that you needed a few pieces of information for your latest project that were unavailable to you here in England. Therefore… Well, look for yourself.’ 

Lucius pushed an envelope the few inches between them and Hermione picked it up while setting her water down. She carefully broke the seal and removed the parchment inside. What she saw left her completely speechless. 

‘Alexandria? Are you serious?’ Her voice went up an octave and she could barely contain her excitement. ‘I’ve always wanted to go down there and I know for a fact they have exactly the texts I have been searching for. Oh my goodness, this is going to be the best -’ Once again, she cut herself off as reality came back to her. ‘I can’t accept this, Mr. Malfoy.’ 

‘Lucius.’ 

‘I beg your pardon?’ 

‘It’s my name, but I’m certain you already knew that.’ 

‘Mr. Malfoy,’ she began, emphasizing his name, ‘I really do appreciate the gesture, but I cannot accept this. Perhaps since you obviously have an in down there, you could simply request the scrolls I need and have them transferred here. Or maybe just copies, as I am unsure as to whether the actual scrolls would survive the trip. But I just can’t up and leave to go down there. I have my children to think of, not to mention the other projects Tess and I have on our plates right now. It would be irresponsible of me to go.’ 

She placed the ticket and itinerary back in the envelope and pushed it back to him. She dared not look up at him though because she knew what she would see. Hurt. Rejection. Of course, there was a very good chance that no one else would see it, but she had gotten very adept at reading him over the course of their professional relationship. That’s all it was: a professional relationship. There could never be anything more so long as she worked for him and that, along with having just turned down the trip of a lifetime, had her eyes stinging and her throat closing up a bit. 

If she were being honest with herself, which she rarely was where he was concerned, then she would admit to an attraction to the blond wizard. He was handsome, intelligent, witty and charming. He always seemed to go out of his way to make her happy and ensure she had time for her family and in the few times he had interacted with Rose and Hugo, they all seemed to get on rather well despite the things she was certain her ex was telling them. No, Lucius Malfoy had somehow become the perfect man in her eyes and she had just rejected him. Twice. First in her refusal of his gift and then in denying his request of a less formal greeting. She knew, though, that if she said his name, things would get infinitely more personal. At least while addressing him as “Mr. Malfoy” she still had that formality and that constant reminder that he was, in fact, her boss. 

She hadn’t even seen him move, but suddenly his right hand was gripping her left arm and raising her from her seat. To anyone watching, the gesture would appear to be nothing more than him helping her up, but the grip of his fingers told a different story. He led them from the room, across the hall and into a much smaller room which was obviously someone’s office. Drawing his wand, he locked and warded the door as she tried to put as much space as possible between them. Then he turned and rounded on her. 

‘I can understand your reluctance to leave your children with that dolt of an ex-husband of yours. I can also appreciate your loyalties to my company and the work you are doing. What I do not understand, though, is why you will not address me by my given name?’ 

‘Do you know what that does to business relations, Mr. Malfoy? Have you seen what happens when co-workers become too friendly? When the lines between business and pleasure become blurred? I’ve worked with people who had attempted intra-office relationships and they never work. Ever. Oh sure it starts out fine because they are happy to see each other all the time, able to take lunches together and the like, but all too soon, both parties feel smothered. They are unable to escape each other and the anger builds. By the time they break things off, both people are miserable, possibly even hostile, and it makes for a very bad work environment. It was one of the top reasons I accepted your job offer, Mr. Malfoy.’ 

‘Lucius.’ 

Hermione continued on as if she hadn’t heard him nor noticed how he was oh so slowly closing the distance between them. ‘With Ron joining the Auror’s, I knew any position in the Ministry would allow him to drop in on me any chance he had. Knowing him, he would have made excuses to find me, check up on me, and try to convince me to just stay home. I couldn’t have that. I knew… I thought that having separate lives would help our marriage and not drive a wedge between us. I lived through enough tensions like that at Hogwarts and then listening to it at Uni, I made myself a promise: I would never become involved with someone I work with, no matter how much I am attracted to them. The fact that you’re my employer -’ 

‘So you admit an attraction?’ He was less than a metre from her now. 

‘Don’t,’ she pleaded. ‘Please? Just don’t.’ 

‘Don’t what?’ 

‘Nothing good can come from this; we both know it.’ 

‘Do we now?’ 

‘We have to be realistic here. I’m quite happy to remain in your employ. I enjoy my job, I get along with my co-workers, and I am one of the few who are lucky enough to find their job fulfilling. We can still have lunches together if you wish, but I would much prefer if it didn’t go past that.’ 

Now he was standing not five inches away from her and she could almost feel the heat radiating from his body. Moving quickly, she walked around him toward the door and spoke again with her back to him. 

‘I will not even so much as address you by your first name until I am no longer working for you. It is disrespectful. So unless you fire me or I find another job, you’re just going to have to live with me calling you by your surname. I also will not allow you to be so close to me again. It sends the entirely wrong message.’  Her hands were shaking and it was taking every bit of her Gryffindor courage to continue, but she went on nonetheless. ‘If we were to become involved, you would have to find a new researcher and I would have to find a new job. I’m quite certain neither of us wants to deal with either of those scenarios. Then we need to consider our feelings when whatever this is ends. Will you still have enjoyed any time we may have had together when you are lamenting the loss of someone you yourself has claimed to be your best legal researcher? And losing you after losing the best job I’ve ever had would make the pain of not having you in my life -’ 

His hands were on her hips and she suddenly realized that she had been crying. ‘But you haven’t lost me,’ he said softly. ‘And who is to say that this will end? Or if it does end, perhaps it will be amicable. No matter what the outcome, you are right about one thing.’ 

‘And what is that?’ Hermione whispered without turning around. 

‘It would be painful to not have you in my life.’ 

He was too close again. Hermione closed her eyes and listened as he breathed his last statement into the hair covering her ear. Her head was swimming in the feel of him. He was just close enough that she could feel the heat of his body, smell the sweet wine on his breath and the mixture of man and undoubtedly expensive cologne emanating from him. Part of her wanted to lean back into him, feel him fully pressed against her back while taking his hands and wrapping herself up in them. The larger part wanted to turn in those arms and kiss him, throwing caution to the wind and seeing where the ride would take them. However, there was a tiny piece of her brain, the voice of reason that was getting smaller and smaller, that reminded her of his place in her world. No matter how badly she wanted him, he was still her boss. 

She needed to get away. She needed to escape the trap he had laid between himself and the door which he had warded. Once she was able to accomplish that, she would take her children and leave the party, not caring who noticed her early exit. When she got home, she would change her own wards, close the Floo and take a well-deserved holiday. Perhaps she would even accept Mr. Malfoy’s offer of that trip to Alexandria. Anything to put some distance between her and the man who was still standing directly behind her. 

‘Tell me what you’re thinking?’ he whispered, bringing his hands up to pull her hair behind her shoulders. 

‘I’m thinking that I may have been a bit hasty in turning down your exceedingly generous Christmas gift.’ 

‘Is that so?’ 

‘Yes. In fact, I believe that trip is exactly what I need. It will give us both a chance to clear our heads.’ 

Lucius paused and took a small step back from her. Immediately and acutely she felt the loss and her heart sank a little. When next he spoke, she noticed that his tone had turned from slightly seductive to an almost cold neutrality. 

‘I see,’ he said. 

Hermione immediately spun around to finally face him with a pain in her chest from where her heart was breaking. ‘Don’t be like that. Don’t get all offended just because I am trying to be responsible about this. I can’t afford becoming more involved with you. I can’t! I have bills to pay and children to raise! I can’t throw away the best job I could’ve ever hoped to have for the chance of happiness with you. It would be irres -’ 

‘Stop saying that,’ he growled, his hands now gripping her upper arms and pulling her flush against him.  ‘Being happy, allowing yourself to enter into a relationship with someone whose company you enjoy, someone you even potentially care about, is not irresponsible. Denying yourself based on issues that most people have to contend with, is. You’re a bright, young witch with talents any one of a hundred firms would snatch up in a heartbeat if given the chance. They would probably even pay you better than I do and you could work fewer hours! Your children have a father as well, and I would be more than willing to remind him of _his_ responsibilities. Sure, you need to pay your bills and you need employment. You need to have a secure environment for your young to grow up in. However, you don’t have to live your life only for what you _need_. Sometimes you need to give in to the things you _want_. So tell me; what do you want, Hermione?’ 

She would have been alright. She could have walked away from it all if only he hadn’t used her name. Hearing it roll off his tongue made her heart race and sent a warm and tingly feeling all through her body. Squeezing her eyes shut to prevent the tears from falling, she lowered her head and admitted the truth out loud, for the first time, to both herself and the man before her. Lucius took her chin in his left hand and raised her face to his, gently asking for her to repeat herself. 

‘You,’ she obliged, a little louder and more confidently than she had said it before. ‘It’s you I want. No matter how much I need this job, I want you more.’ 

A smirk formed on his lips. ‘I’m glad you feel that way.’ His voice had returned to a teasing seduction, but he didn’t immediately kiss her like she had expected. Instead, he led them back across the hall and into the ballroom where he quickly gathered their things. Hermione noticed him casting a sly wink in the direction of Tess before making a rather loud declaration. ‘Miss Granger, it pains me to do this, especially on Christmas, but you have left me little choice. You’re fired.’ 

Whatever she had been expecting, this had not been it. Fired? On Christmas? Was he for real? Surely this had to be some huge joke, something to lighten the growing tension between them and earn a laugh to chase away the arousal from their encounter across the hall. Well, it had worked. She was most certainly not aroused any longer. Truth be told, she was warring between blind fury and utter embarrassment. The decision to either flee from the room or knock him unconscious with her bare hands played in her mind but in the end, all she could do was stand there gaping like a fish. When he took a step toward her, she just stared at him. It wasn’t until her feet hit the floor in an unfamiliar room did she realize that he had closed the distance and Apparated them away. Her brain began to work again, albeit slowly, as she stepped back and looked up at him. 

‘You… You fired me,’ she said, disbelief evident in her voice. ‘Why would you do that? What did I do? What could I have possibly done to warrant that, Mr. Malfoy?’ 

‘Lucius,’ he intoned. 

‘What?’ she asked, her expression halfway between anger and bewilderment. That was when it dawned on her, the reason for his statement. Her eyes fell to the floor and she whispered an ‘Oh’ to his shoes. He took her face in his hands and raised her eyes to his. 

‘Is this not what you want?’ 

‘But I need that job,’ she said, her voice laced with sorrow. 

‘I don’t want to give you something you need for Christmas, Hermione. Anyone can give you a job and I am quite certain that as soon as word gets out that you are no longer in my employ, as well as the reasons behind it, the offers will roll in. Now, let me give you something you want.’ 

His lips met hers before she could even think to reply. They were soft and warm, moving in time with hers and patiently allowing her the lead. She smiled into the kiss, knowing that he was not usually such a patient man. Was it possible that he was a patient lover? She didn’t know, but she was determined to find out. First things first, though. 

‘My children?’ 

‘Are safe with Tess for the night.’ 

‘Did you plan on letting me go tonight?’ 

‘Hermione, my sweet, I plan on never letting you go.’ 

She chuckled in response. ‘That’s not what I meant and you know it.’ 

Lucius sighed. ‘I knew that I would do whatever it took for you to accept me into your life in a more personal capacity. You’ve made your feelings quite clear that you would not allow me to pursue you so long as you were working for me, so I simply eliminated that obstacle. I want you, Hermione, and I know for a fact that you want me. Now, no more talking for you, unless it is to beg for more.’ 

They kissed again, but with a sense of urgency. As she now knew that her children were safe without her and would be until the morning, she allowed herself to succumb to his seductions. His hands felt divine as they pulled her body flush against his. She felt the warmth emanating from beneath his robes and took comfort in his confidence. When he brought his hands to the zip on the back of her dress, an involuntary shiver went through her. He obviously took her reaction as an invitation because he then proceeded to remove her dress. As soon as her arms were free of the garment she brought her hands to the collar of his shirt and pulled, eager to rid him of it and explore the skin held beneath. 

He was perfection in her eyes. His chest was finely sculpted with a light smattering of hair on his pectorals along with a trail that began just below his belly button and ran beneath the waistline of his trousers. She longed to see just where that line ended, but knew that she would have to wait. She didn’t want to come off as easy, but every fibre of her being was screaming at her to lower his bottoms and take him inside of her. Seemingly reading her thoughts, he took off the remainder of their clothes and led her a few steps to the bed. 

She didn’t have a chance to take in her surroundings or to fully appreciate the opulence of the room around her. All she knew was the softness of the fabric against her naked back and the heat and solidity of the man now positioning himself between her thighs. Any doubt about what was to happen was washed away when he settled his weight over her. 

It felt right. 

Hermione looked up into his eyes and noted a smile of pure contentment that she would never have expected to see gracing his features. Ever so slowly, his mouth claimed hers, first with a faint brush of lips and then a more insistent pressure against hers. He traced the crease of her lips with his tongue, gaining entrance at the exactly the same moment that he began to thrust inside of her. 

They moved slowly at first, testing various angles and trying to figure out the best way to give them both the pleasure they were seeking. Each rotation of his hips brought an answering raise of hers. Soon they found a rhythm that worked for them. Hands were exploring, lips and tongues tasting, while their bodies worked up a sweat. Before too long, her moans had changed into cries of rapture as she began to clench around him. The last thing she was certain of before her orgasm fully claimed her was calling out her lover’s name: ‘Lucius!’ 

A short time later, the two lay in bed, limbs tangled with him holding her close. They were sleepy and sated and neither wanted to move from the comfort found therein. Lucius kissed Hermione’s temple and then chuckled in embarrassment as his stomach grumbled quite loudly. 

‘Well, that’s what I get for merely picking at my meal this evening. However, that is a problem which is easily rectified.’ He summoned an elf, ordered some food, and stood to put on a dressing robe before the creature returned with snacks and beverages. ‘May I offer you a drink, milady?’ 

‘Certainly, milord,’ she laughed. 

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, eating, before Hermione spoke again. 

‘I can’t believe you fired me.’ 

‘As I said earlier, I was willing to do what I needed to have you in my life. I can make you happy, love, if only you would allow me. You no longer have to work, you can give up that tiny abode you call a house, and –‘ 

She looked up at him, completely dumbfounded. ‘You’re asking me to move in with you? We just got together!’ 

‘It’s not really as sudden as you think. Most people assumed that we have been together for many months now.’ He turned his head and looked deep into her eyes. ‘I don’t want you to feel pressured. The last thing I want is to lose you now that I finally have you in my clutches.’ 

‘You’ve already lost me.’ At his confused expression, she continued. ‘You fired me, remember?’ 

He playfully swatted her backside as she giggled and the new lover’s fell into a comfortable silence. They both knew that they had all the time in the world to sort out their unconventional relationship, but both were looking forward to it. After a long while, Hermione turned in his arms and leaned up to kiss him. 

‘What was that for?’ he asked.

‘I just wanted to say thank you. It’s nice to finally get something I wanted for Christmas.’ 

He smiled at her and kissed her sweetly before moving to spoon against her back. ‘Good night, Hermione.’ 

‘Good night, Lucius. Happy Christmas.’


End file.
